


Right Where It Belongs

by redandwhiteroses



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types, Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins Movies)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redandwhiteroses/pseuds/redandwhiteroses
Summary: See the animal in its cage that you’ve builtAre you sure what side you are on?Better not look him too closely in the eyesAre you sure what side of the glass you are on?”Nine Inch Nails, “Right Where It Belongs”Your work for Dr. Lecter has led you to a lot of interesting people. The most interesting maybe your newest assignment: Michael Myers, the Shape of Haddonfield.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Reader, Michael Myers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. See the Animal

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: Real quick, I want to put out here that this fic is going to deal with violence and mental illness and all that. The big thing I want to note is that there’s a character called The Snake. The Snake is not meant to be seen as some half-assed attempt at writing a reader with DID; The Snake is more of the reader’s way of dissociating themselves from a more violent part of their personality. Reader is well-aware that The Snake is Them, and The Snake is not a separate personality! I’ll explain in a later chapter what I’m doing with this. But yeah, I just wanted to clarify that real quick.

Haddonfield is much colder than you thought it would be.

Sure, you knew Illinois was going to be cold. That wasn’t the issue. Something else made the air feel colder, less welcoming. Perhaps it was the town’s past that made it seem more frigid than the rest of the state. After all, very few places had such a claim to fame. 

You stand outside Smith’s Grove, eyeing the facility warily. You’re surprised that this place managed to keep Michael Myers locked away for so long. From the outside, it didn’t look like much at all. Silently, you hope that the inside is better. If it wasn’t, you were going to have to revise your opinion of Michael fairly quickly. 

“A child should have been able to break out of this place.” You murmur quietly to yourself before heading towards the buildings. 

You don’t see anything that improves your evaluation of the place until you step inside. Your opinion drastically changes. At least three sets of doors lay in front of you, all of which have to be opened by someone else. Three guards are visible, talking amongst themselves. You can see movement behind some of the glass on the doors and windows. You have no way of knowing for sure, but the flashes of dark blue ease some of your worries. 

You turn your head to the left and see where you need to be. A woman, looking rather bored, sits behind a desk. The placard at the front of the desk announcing it was the visitor’s station seems redundant. You make your way over to the young lady. She looks up at you.

You tell her your last and first name. “I’m here on behalf of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He should have called to let you know I was on my way.”

“Sure, yeah. Let me check.” Caroline, if her name tag was correct, began flipping through stacks of papers off to the side of her desk. She pauses several pages in, eyes going comically wide.

“Oh.” She breathes. “You’re here to see him.”

You know she means no harm by her statement, but The Snake raises its head ever-so-slight. You have to squash the wave of anger it creates as it begins to uncoil slowly. Caroline was nothing more than an innocent; she didn’t deserve the wrath that accompanied your psychological friend. 

“Yes.” You try to make your smile less tight than it feels. “I am.”

“Are you… Is…” She flounders for words for a second. “Is Dr. Lecter okay with you going in there? I mean, he-”

“I’m aware he’s dangerous.” You snap. You can almost see The Snake’s fangs as your own when you open your mouth. 

You take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I’m not going to lie; it was awful getting here. The airport was just… Well.” You stop yourself. You hope your ‘explanation’ makes sense to her. Travel bringing out the worst in people was a universal; surely she’d understand.

Luckily for you, she does.

“I know what you mean.” Her nod is sympathetic. “The airport here is terrible.” She pauses again. “I just…” A look of concern crosses over her face. “I don’t know. You just… There was a nurse here that he attacked a while ago, and you look just like them.”

“Really? I hadn’t read that in the report sent to Dr. Lecter.” You tilt your head to the side. Your brow furrowed slightly, and the corners of your mouth turn down. “That seems as if it should have been included.” You avoid using the word negligent, but your tone says exactly what you’re thinking. Caroline at least has the decency to look ashamed.

“We… The staff decided to keep it quiet.” Her voice is soft. “Before this, we just thought that Dr. Loomis was picking on him. I mean, a kid couldn’t be that evil. No one could. So we kinda covered it up.” She looks up at you, and it seems like there’s genuine sorrow in her eyes. “He’d never done anything in years, so we thought that it was maybe a moment where he was lucid or scared!” Her voice rises in pitch. The Snake makes a noise of discontent.

I fucking hate it when incompetent fuckers act like shit isn’t their fault. The Snake thinks, flicking its tail out. 

You hate it when this happens. You can’t dissociate yourself from this violent part of you, this Snake, when its thoughts are your thoughts. When its voice is your voice. Your hands curl slightly into fists. You especially hate it because sometimes, despite your best efforts, you can’t differentiate between the two of you anymore, and you are just one violent impulse. And when The Snake’s voice melds with your inner voice that perfectly, you are that much closer to becoming nothing more than an awful and terrible force. 

You realize the nurse is staring, so you take a deep breath. She must think that you’re mad at her.

You are. Of course you’re fucking mad at this incompetent cunt. The voice that you desperately want to not be yours hisses in the back of your mind.

“I understand what you did that.” You fight to keep your voice gentle. “It makes things tricky, but I understand.”

Caroline, the fucking bitch, opens her mouth to speak again when another voice interrupts.

“Hey! I was told someone with Dr. Lecter is here.” A large man, a guard if his uniform was to be believed, ambles over. 

“I am.” You nod in greeting. The guard stares at you, assessing you.

“Ain’t my business, but shouldn’t you be doing this with Dr. Loomis.” His voice makes it clear he’s not asking what’s right; he’s calling you out for what he thinks is wrong. You give him your best placating smile.

“Dr. Lecter thought that it might be prudent if Dr. Loomis wasn’t with me during the initial evaluation.”

“Did he now?”

He did, you fat-ass fuckface.

“Given how… involved Dr. Loomis was with bringing Michael back here, Dr. Lecter believes that Dr. Loomis’s presence might interfere with my evaluation.”

The guard snorts. You’re half surprised he doesn’t start scratching his stomach. “Basically, your doc thinks that our doc might make go full-on maniac again.”

“If you want to put it that way, sure.” You shrug, giving him an unsure smile. “And if it does make you feel better, Dr. Lecter and Dr. Loomis are meeting to talk about the logistics right now.”

More like the fucking incompetent quack is throwing a bitch-fit for Hannibal trying to steal his case.

“I guess.” The guard turns and motions for you to follow him. “If I’m honest, I’m glad to see him go. Gives me the creeps.” 

“Thank you.” You speak quickly to Caroline. “You were very helpful.” 

“You coming?” The guard yells from over his shoulder. “I can’t wait on you all day. I want that freak out of here.”


	2. In Its Cage that You've Built

You weren’t sure what you thought The Shape of Haddonfield would look like, but it wasn’t this. Despite the bandages covering his right eye, he was far more attractive than you’d like to admit. He has dark hair that you just wanted to run your fingers through and tug harshly on.

His head would look go between our thighs. The Snake remarks idly. Especially if his face was covered in blood.

Well.

That was new.

You always associated the other part of yourself with your more violent wants and impulses. The Snake was always angry, always fuming at something. Yeah, once or two it had lazily brought up the idea of hurting someone in a sexual context, but this was the most directly sexual feeling you’d ever heard it say. What made it weirder was the lack of threat behind it. Sure, the blood part was inherently on the sadistic side, but it wasn’t as blatant as it normally would be.

“You coming in or not?” The guard’s voice jerks your out of your reverie. You give him a small smile.

“Of course.” You quickly follow him to the entrance of the pseudo-meeting area.

“Not what you expected, huh?” Keys jingle together as the guard unlocks the door.

“No, not at all what I expected.” You had already been pat down for any weapons/anything that could be used as one, so you step inside once the guard gets the door open. You begin walking towards the table that Michael is handcuffed to but stop when you hear the guard clear his throat.

“Listen, it’s… It’s been a while since he’s gotten any visitors, so we don’t know what he might do. So, ya know, holler if you even remotely suspect he might attack you.” He nods his head in the direction of one of the walls. Behind it, you can see various personnel waiting. You have no doubt at least one of the people has a syringe prepped and ready in case the worst were to happen. “They’ll help ya.”

“I appreciate it.” You nod. You want to say that you don’t think it will be necessary, but you honestly aren’t sure. Unfortunately, you don’t have any way of knowing at the moment. No one has been able to establish a baseline with Michael, so it was almost impossible to figure out what was going on inside of his brain. Dr. Loomis was the person who’s gotten the closest, and you’ll be damned if you trust what that quack says.

“Michael.” You greet him. He doesn’t look at you, content at staring at the wall. You weren’t expecting a response. You finish walking to the table and take a seat across from him. Idly, you note the amount of restraints. His wrists are cuffed to the table, but another set holds the first set taut. Several more restraints are around his legs, keeping him pinned in place to the chair.

You introduce yourself to him, despite the fact he doesn’t seem to be aware you’re in the room at all. 

“I’m Dr. Lecter’s assistant, and I’m here on his behalf. He does want you to know that he regrets not being able to be here himself. He has to deal with some pressing matters.” You watch Michael’s face carefully. Nothing. No flicker of emotion, no twitch.

Interesting.

I wonder what it would take to make him react. Make him moan.

You close your eyes for a second, willing the other part of you to go away. This wasn’t the time for your repressed side to surface. You take a deep breath. Slowly, you release it. When you open your eyes, you nearly jump. Michael had stopped staring at the wall and was now staring at you. Assessing you.

You wonder what he sees. Does he see another victim, or do he see something? Does he see your baser self? 

You bet he does. You don’t know why, but something in your gut is telling you he knows. He knows about your violent tendencies and how much you have to repress them, and how some days it’s all you can do to not kill and rip and tear apart everyone in your way. It’s not something you can express in words, you have no way to describe what gives you that feeling. All you know is that he saw you and knew that you two were far more alike than different.

You need him to open up some to you in order to prove that he should be put under Dr. Lecter’s care. You might have just found the way. A beast could put more faith in another beast.

You close your eyes again. You take a deep breath and let your conscious float backwards. Well, that was the best was to explain what you did. Dr. Lecter had taught you a trick when he helped you work with this other side of you. It was a defense mechanism, and sometimes, you did need the defense of The Snake. So he taught you a way to let it come forward in situations where it may be needed.

You open your eyes.

Normally, no one reacted when you did this. You didn’t have to do it fairly often, thankfully. The only person who noticed when you actively did it was Hannibal, but that was just because he was looking for it.

Michael reacts.

It’s a flash, a blink and you miss it expression. But you saw it. You see the look of interest in his eyes, a hint of curiosity before he can school his expression once more. You shift. Your back cracks as you sit up straighter, taller. Your shoulders fall naturally downwards as your chin lifts up slightly. You look Michael right in the eyes.

“You and I both know these pleasantries are stupid, so I’ll cut to the point. You made national news. Your care, or lack thereof, did too. Dr. Hannibal Lecter wants to take your case on. He believes that Dr. Loomis has no idea what he’s doing, and that it would be far more beneficial for you to work with him.” You keep your eyes locked with his. 

A micro-expression, the tiniest twitch of Michael’s lip upwards, at the mention of Dr. Loomis. You let a small smirk dart across your face, a quiet way to communicate you know exactly how he feels. You place your elbows on the table and interlace your fingers. 

“We can’t make the call until we have some sort of evidence that you will do better with Dr. Lecter. I will have to meet with you several times to get the relevant data. I’ve been allowed three visits.” You try not to let the disdain seep into your voice. “If it is deemed that you would do better with Dr. Lecter, we will be moving you to Baltimore as soon as we can. Dr. Lecter and myself will both be assisting you.”

The two of you stare at each other. You hadn’t gotten a single reaction out of Michael since you let The Snake come forward. He didn’t seem to be listening to you. He was still watching you, but his face was blank. You weren’t sure if he got what you had silently been asking for him to do. You didn’t want to try again for fear that someone in Dr. Loomis’s court see what you were doing.

You break first. You look away and towards the wall where all of the guards and orderlies were waiting. You stood up, making your way over to the door. You knocked twice. One of them, you weren’t sure if he was a guard or a nurse, opens the door.

“Do we need to…?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I actually want you to do the opposite. The second set of cuffs on his wrists. I want you to take them off.”

The man blinks. You bit the inside of your cheek hard.

“But-”

“I know what I said, and I am aware of the risks. I’m not stupid. I want that second set of chains off of him.”

“But Dr. Lo-”

“Dr. Loomis isn’t here now, is he? I cannot perform a proper evaluation if Michael is uncomfortable, and I would think that several sets of chains would be very uncomfortable.” Each passing moment makes it harder to keep the growl out of your tone. 

“He’s always been like that, though.”

“That has nothing to do with my point.” You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulder as you do so. “Take the second set of chains off of Michael. I’ll sign a waiver that says I’m liable if I get hurt, whatever I need to do to get this done.”

Another man, this one clearly a guard, comes to the door.

“We can’t. Strict orders.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Strict orders? From whom?”

“Dr. Loomis.”

“Again, he isn’t here, is he? I am aware of the risks I’m running.” You grit your teeth. “You are aware of the reports of abuse going on within this facility, yes?” The guard seems to know exactly what you’re talking about because he sighs.

“Okay, fine. We’ll do it.” You pretend to ignore what the guard mutters under his breath. Even if you couldn’t hear it, you would have a good idea of what he might be saying. He closes the door for a second. When he opens it, several orderlies follow him into the room. The small group goes over to the table. The guard begins getting the keys out a good distance away from Michael, far enough that the killer at the table couldn’t lunge at him. You watch with fascination. You’d seen plenty of guards and orderlies interact with ‘the criminally insane,’ but this was something different. No one had ever acted this skittish around Dr. Lecter’s patients, and some of them were quite notorious. 

Michael seems to be apathetic as he watches them. He makes no move to help them or to hinder them. In fact, he stays perfectly still. The only thing that you can see move are his eyes. He’s clearly tracking the guard. For a second, it seems as if he might be prepared to move, as if he expects the guard to strike him at any second. Your frown deepens. Quietly, you promise yourself that you will make sure this place gets shut down for its incompetence and handling of patients. Slowly, the guard comes forward and unlocks the top set of handcuffs. His movements are jerky, indicating how much he doesn’t want to be around Michael. Once he unlocks the cuffs and extracts them from the table, he nearly jumps backwards in his attempt to get away. It would be comical in nearly any other situation.

Michael doesn’t move, doesn’t seem to acknowledge the fact that he’s had some of his restraints removed. The small group heads back into the other room quickly. You make your way back to the table. Slowly, you sits down.

Silence blankets the room.

Eventually, Michael breaks the silence. He doesn’t speak. Instead, he shifts. He seems to be getting a sense of what he can do without the extra pair of handcuffs. He takes a moment to survey the room before his gaze lands on you again. He tilts his head to the side, clearly reevaluating his initial impression of you. You return his cool gaze. You want to squirm and talk, break the silence, but you don’t. It doesn’t take training in psychology to see that Michael is the sort of person you win over by playing his game. You have to play his game and let him win.

A noise nearly makes you jump. Michael has moved his hands so they’re closer to your side of the table, and he’s… he tapped on the table? You can’t keep the surprise from your face. You had expected some sort of reaction, but this was… this was far more than you expected. You look at his face. He gives you a dry look.

“Alright.” You run your tongue over suddenly dry lips. “I’m not going to ask you to speak. You can write things out on the table if you’ve got any questions. Do you have any questions so far?”

He lowers his head just enough to be considered a nod. His hand stays in the same place, but his index finger is poised to move. After a moment, his hand relaxes, fingers curling inwards towards his palm as his palm tilts upwards slightly. He’s still looking at you, watching you, but something’s changed. Everything about his body language shifts to even more closed off and guarded.

He’s clearly done talking for the day. 

Still, you got quite a reaction out of him. For anyone else, it would be considered a small reaction, but when it came to Michael? Well, you were more than confident the transition would be approved. You actively try to keep your gait calm and collected. It wouldn’t due to play your hand so early. You could never trust anyone, and you had a feeling that Dr. Loomis had plenty of people who thought he was justified in his treatment of Michael.

That’s why you drive a little ways away before calling Dr. Lecter. The receiver is cold against your ear, and the wind seems more intense.

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter speaking.” Dr. Lecter’s voice eventually comes through.

“Hi, Dr. Lecter!”

“Ah, my favorite protege.” Though his tone is dry, you know that he does mean those words on some level. “I take it that everything went well? No one was mauled?”

“No, no one was.”

“What a pity.” His dramatic sigh makes you bite the inside of your cheek again. “Do tell what happened.”

“I got him to communicate with me!” You try to keep your glee contained. “I mean, as much as I could.”

“Still not talking?”

“Nope. I would have loved to get him to do so. He tapped the table, trying to get my attention.”

“Certainly better than nothing.” You can almost hear Dr. Lecter close his eyes. “Do use your other meetings with him. I would like to collect as much evidence as we can that he should be brought into my care.” 

“I will do that.” You can tell that he’s tired. “I will call you after the next session and let you know how it goes. Good night Dr. Lecter.” He bides you good night, and you hang up the phone.


End file.
